Memories of Miss Martha

A couple of Saturdays ago, we had new neighbors moving in on each side of our house.  (Not The House of Goodwill, but our year-round residence.)  I was so busy with a million things, I felt bad that I hadn’t taken the time to really meet them, but just waved in passing here and there.

Since my family goes to a church that has been talking all year about the importance of loving and serving our neighbors  – and not just our neighbors in a general sense, but our actual literal neighbors – I’d been really wanting to do something to reach out.

Church nudging aside, I kept thinking about Martha Lanham, my former (literal) neighbor who had moved away less than a year before.  Martha had advanced cancer and her husband Gene was going blind.  Their daughter wanted them to move closer to where she lived, and so our wonderful neighbors of 15 years were gone.

Miss Martha and her equally wonderful husband, Gene

I have always had the blessing of having LOTS of amazing neighbors.  I mean really, really great people – the kind you hope move in nearby.

I would guess that the first time I met Martha, she was probably standing on my doorstep with a cake/pie/cookies/something delicious in her hands.  I actually don’t remember the first time we met, but Martha was always showing up at my door with a cake/pie/cookies/something delicious.  But that wasn’t why I loved her; it was what her cake/pie/cookies/something delicious represented.

She was such a caring, kind and loving person.  She helped my husband and I in innumerable ways, always willing to give and serve however she could.  Getting mail, watering plants, feeding our cat when we went out of town, gathering new neighbors for dinner with us so we could all meet , sharing her flowers when she divided them and giving lots of helpful gardening advice.  When my husband was out of town and I had to work late, she would stay up with her husband and not go to bed till they saw I was home safely.

When I told Martha that my beloved dog passed away she cried.  For me.  And I will never forget that.

So I made a “Martha move” the other day.  I baked some pumpkin-carrot-raisin bread and I shared it with the new neighbors.

May my home truly be a “House of Goodwill” like Martha’s was.  She will be in my heart forever.